Controlled
by Ytr
Summary: Harry lets out his frustrations on Draco. Warnings: Dubious consent, BDSM.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Controlled

Summary: Harry lets out his frustrations on Draco.

Pairings: Harry/Draco

Warnings: Dubious consent, BDSM

A/N: I don't own a thing, just borrowing it a sec from Rowling.

Unfortunately my English isn't that great, it is not my native language.

CH I

Harry slowly opened his eyes, he had had a horrible week and now he really didn't want to wake up to face yet more homework, disastrous encounters with Cho or fights with Malfoy. All he wanted to do was to lie there in bed, thinking of nothing, for at least a couple of years, then he would be fully rested. The strain of being the chosen one and Voldemort's target were beginning to show on Harry and the enormous pile of schoolwork which he still hadn't finished wasn't really uplifting. In any case Harry managed to drag himself to the bathroom and splash some water on his face in an attempt to wake up. It didn't really help and all it got him was a terrible picture of himself in the mirror showing an all to sad, nervous and scared young boy.

He was the boy who lived, the saviour of the wizarding world. Always did he have to show a brave face, be what everyone expected him to be, the fearless incarnation of all things that were good, sent to earth to save the poor people terrorised by the Dark Lord. Harry still held his smile firm in place whenever he went somewhere public, but alone he was starting to fall to pieces. Slowly, day by day, sides of him that he tried to repress were beginning to show themselves, unwelcome thoughts and wishes plagued him. Harry was beginning to detest the people that he was trying to save. They were stronger than Voldemort if they would unite and dare to defy him, but that they would never do, oh no they sent a seventeen year old boy out to do their work. And this was not everything, what bugged Harry to no end was that all these weak, horrible people were trying to control him, everyone seemed to think it was their right to decide for the chosen one. Harry felt himself becoming a puppet for the government and all the other ones that wanted to use him as a weapon against the Dark Lord. Hermione and Ron tried to help and comfort him of course, but there were little they could do against the wizard government, and for that matter Dumbledore. All these things weighed heavy on Harry as he tried his best to get through the day.

Still gripping the edges of the sink he turned his head as he heard someone enter the bathroom. A mop of read hair were turning on a shower and adjusting the temperature of the water.

"Morning"

"Hello, didn't see you there Harry. How are you feeling?"

_Oh just splendid, terrific, never felt better in my life. _"Better I suppose, thank you."

"Are you sure? You don't look that good, mate."

"Thanks" Harry said whit a crooked smile. "No, I'm better, I just need some breakfast and a shower."

As they were dressing Ron tried to lighten Harry's spirit with some stories of the twins antics and experiments with different joke items for the shop, and he succeeded drawing a small smile from Harry.

On the way down to the Grate Hall they met up with Hermione and together they sat down for breakfast. Harry, who was all to tired to partake in any sort of discussion, let his eyes and mind wander. He looked out over the Hufflepuff table, filled whit good hearted, loyal people, people that seemed devoid of all troublesome things, laughing and playing. Harry wished he could be like them, not a trouble in the world, happy. Not able to lock at them any longer he turned his head in the other direction staring at the Slytherin table. In this moment he felt like he had more in common with the Slytherins sitting there quiet and reserved, many of them torn between different loyalties, between different ideals. Harry knew that not all of them were evil, not all of them followers to Voldemort. This was a house of both light and dark, while the other houses really only were light. It was not hard to imagine the tension amongst the Slytherins. You could almost feel it. Still Harry had difficulties feeling any kind of sympathy towards the Slytherins, even the ones that didn't support Voldemort, to much house rivalry lay between them, to much anger and blame. He locked at the different faces. Parkinson had lost her mother during the summer when some of the Death Eaters had been killed, her mother had been one of them. Her father had been sent to Azkaban shortly after and she had been taken in by some cousins of hers. It had all been in the Daily Prophet. But Parkinson had not been the only one at that table who had lost someone close. Harry could see many people with their faces under perfect control, not for one second letting the sorrow and the battles raging within themselves show. He whished he could have the same control as they did, show an impassive face without the expressions of anger and disgust that he now constantly were afraid he would show. Harry glanced quickly over Malfoy and then let his eyes wander back to the blond. Now there was really a face that showed no emotions. Never had he seen Malfoy express anything but superiority and power, but that was perhaps all that the blond was capable of feeling.

Suddenly Ron tapped him on the shoulder, it was time for their first lesson, potions. Happy, happy, days!


	2. Chapter 2

A double lesson of potions, a terrible charms lesson which resulted in an rather ugly, yellow table which sprouted three wings and finally a lesson of history which had the majority of the class sleeping in half an hour made up yet another perfect day.

Harry had gone to bed directly after the last lesson without doing any homework or eating any dinner. It was probably the latter that woke him up around midnight. Although it was after curfew Harry took up his invisibility cloak and headed to the kitchens.

He knew he should have been more careful as he walked down the many stairs and in to the dungeons, but he was to depressed to care to look where he was going. As he rounded a corner Harry suddenly crashed into someone, and landed hard on his left side. Wasn't it just his luck. Seething with anger and repressed hurt, rage and sorrow he locked up at the one he crashed into. Harry was sure to see Snape and a months detention but instead he saw Malfoy, which also for that matter could lead to detention if Malfoy would tell on him, which he probably would.

"Ah, the boy who lived, sneaking through the corridors in Slytherin territory after curfew, not very Gryffindor of you. That's no way for our precious hero to behave is it? Well, we can't have little Gryffindors running around in the dark. Snape should be notified of this."

And that was all it took, Harry snapped and released years of built up tension. He sprang to his feet, one hand shot out and gripped Malfoy's throat and slammed the blond hard against the stonewall. Malfoy's eyes went wide and he was chipping for breath and scratching at Harry's hand. To caught up in his on little word Harry didn't notice the strange sparkle in Malfoy's eyes, instead he searched for and found the blonde's wand and tossed it down the corridor.

"Don't you dare Malfoy! Don't you dare insult me again!"

He brought his free hand up and punched Malfoy in the face.

"Don't you fucking dare!"

Harry wasn't really sure what he was doing as he shoved Malfoy into an empty classroom and locked and silenced the room, but then again he really didn't care that much.

"W...what the hell do you think you are doing Potter?! Let me out or I will have you expelled!"

"Now, now Draco, calm down." Malfoy flinched as Harry spoke and showed no signs of calming down as Harry advanced on him.

"Potter stop right there! I'll make you regret this!" But without his wand Malfoy, who was smaller than Harry, was defenceless as Harry yet again hit him in the face.

One hand tangled itself in Malfoy's hair and Harry brutally yanked his head up.

"We are going to have some fun now Draco, and you won't tell this to anybody, I promise." Malfoy started to shake and he locked pleadingly into Harry's eyes, Harry on the other hand just smiled as he traced the lines of the blonds face with his nail, leaving a red line on the perfect skin.

"Be nice now Draco."

Without warning Harry threw Malfoy to the floor and swiftly kicked him in the stomach. Malfoy tried to grab at Harry's shoes but his hands were kicked away and held down by Harry's own hands over Malfoy's head as Harry straddled him.

"Try to be nice Draco, it won't hurt as much then."

Harry really should have noticed the strange emotions that flickered in Malfoy's eyes by then, he should have noticed that Malfoy didn't fight back as much as one would expect of him, but none of Malfoy's emotions mattered. Nothing mattered any more. And what was Malfoy really? Just a cold, empty shell, probably not even human. To hell with everything! To hell with the school, with Dumbledore, with everyone! To hell with Malfoy!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Thanks for the reviews, I didn't think that I would get any positive ones. And my language, well I know it ain't good but I try to check it. It's a bit difficult to write in a different language than your native one, but hopefully you'll understand what I'm trying to say.

Chapter 3

Something was wrong when Harry woke up, definitely so. You were not able to hear birdsong this clearly in Gryffindor tower and, if Harry wasn't mistaken, there was also a rather strong wind ruffling his clothes. He sat up with a start. Why on earth was he outside by the lake, why wasn't he in his bed. Harry looked around but nobody was there, he was all alone.

Slowly, as if he were expecting an attack, he got up and checked himself over. Nothing was really amiss, wand, clothes, everything was there and accounted for. But he frowned slightly when he saw a red stain at the front of his shirt, a rather large stain at that. Oh, but he had sneaked down to the kitchens hadn't he and, well, he must have spilled something on himself. And….and he must have taken a walk later and fallen asleep in the grass, yes that was it, nothing to worry about.

He started to walk back to the castle, shivering a bit from the cold. As silent as possible he opened the large doors and sneaked in. But still, something was not right. He didn't remember eating, he didn't remember walking outside and he didn't even remember sitting down and falling asleep by the lake. Harry looked down on the stain on his shirt. Red, dark red.

'_Please Potter, stop.'_

Something had happened, what was it?

'_Now, now Draco don't be difficult.'_

'_Please stop. Please Potter.'_

Harry fell to his knees in the middle of the corridor.

"Malfoy, oh god, Malfoy" He put his arms around himself and clutched his upper arms.

"Oh god, no" He couldn't have done that, could he? Surly not. But the stain, the memories. Shaking Harry pulled up the cuffs of his arms to reveal long red welts where nails had scratched him. He could not breath, he gasped but it felt like no air entered his lungs. Harry scrambled to his feet, fell back down, crawled to the wall to steady him as he yet again tried to stand up.

"I…no I…never…..oh no" He began to cry, large tears streaming down his face.

What should he do, what could he do? He was the boy who lived, the saviour of the wizarding world. This wasn't him, it could not be. What if he went to Azkaban, what would happen then? What about Voldemort and the war. What if Malfoy told someone, what if he didn't? And where was Malfoy now? Was he with Madam Pomfrey or had Harry hurt him so much that Malfoy wasn't able to get help. Could he still be lying in a deserted classroom, and who would find him if he did? No, he had to check that Malfoy wasn't still there. Harry began to walk down the corridors dragging his feet behind him.

Never had the dungeons felt as cool or as damp, it felt as if he was walking in a mausoleum, a silent and deserted grave. Should he run or stand up for what he had done? This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't. But here he stood hand on the door handle leading to the classroom to which he had dragged Malfoy.

Slowly Harry opened the door not wanting to see what was inside. He didn't see anything at a first glance so he stepped in and closed the door behind him as quiet as he could. Nothing seemed wrong or out of place. The desks stood in their perfect lines, nothing overturned or destroyed and there was no sign of a struggle at all. Harry bent down and checked under the furniture, no Malfoy and no blood. In that moment it really felt as if it all had been nothing more than a terrible, terrible dream. But no, Harry remembered and he felt the sting from the wounds Malfoy had inflicted whit his nails along with other pains that he refused to think about how he had got.

Harry felt chills run up his spine from being in that room and for thinking about what he had done. He had to get out of there, get out of this damned room, this grave. Harry in his haste stumbled out slamming the door shut behind him.

Leaning heavily on the hard stone wall he tried to gather his thought and decide what to do. It was then that he heard footsteps down the corridor heading his way. Was someone already out looking for him, out looking for the one that had hurt Malfoy?

He turned and ran.


End file.
